


Chasing My Mind

by SecondFromTheRight



Series: All We Do Is Hide Away [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 10:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13121847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondFromTheRight/pseuds/SecondFromTheRight
Summary: Following on fromHow It Is With Her.Home. It might be that, her complete natural acceptance of him in her place, her space she’d made for herself and he thinks he might have remade with her. Part of him wants to do exactly what she’s offering, grab her and take her home, safe away from everything else. He can almost feel the comfort of her home, but he won’t. She deserves this, Curtis deserves this. Hell, Frank thinks maybe he even deserves this. His friend to know his…whatever Karen Page is; his friend to know Karen Page. He thinks about Doris' acknowledgement of him yesterday, even Ellison's when he first came back - he wants to give her something similar.Frank introduces Karen to Curtis.





	Chasing My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I'm nervous about this one. People seemed to like [How It Is With Her](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12922041) and I wrote that with the assumption that I wouldn't write further of that storyline, so I'm worried this piece doesn't have as much to it and will be disappointing.
> 
> I really hope it's not. Let me know either way.

“Frank.” Karen’s voice breaks through his distraction. When he turns to her she’s looking at him as patiently as always, as understandingly as always. He finds himself roaming over her face, cataloging her, enjoying her. He does that sometimes. He just likes to watch her, remember she’s there, remember she’s with him. It gives him some kind of strength he’s terrified he’ll lose if he looks away from her. Since making the choice to stay, it’s easier to look, but it’s become impossible to look away.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah…okay.” He whispers, trying to work himself up.

“We don’t have to be here. We can just go home.”

Home. It might be that, her complete natural acceptance of him in her place, her space she’d made for herself and he thinks he might have remade with her. Part of him wants to do exactly what she’s offering, grab her and take her home, safe away from everything else. He can almost feel the comfort of her home, but he won’t. She deserves this, Curtis deserves this. Hell, Frank thinks maybe he even deserves this. His friend to know his…whatever Karen Page is; his friend to know Karen Page. He thinks about Doris' acknowledgement of him yesterday, even Ellison's when he first came back - he wants to give her something similar.

“Nah, Curt’d never let me hear the end of it.” He says, a soft smile on his face than gets even softer when she gives one of her own.

 

“Curt.” He greets as he walks into the room that Curtis is tidying up after a session, Karen by his side.

“Frank,” Curtis says, turning around to face them. His eyes look over Karen before landing on Frank again. “You recruiting now?”

“This is…this is Karen. Page. Karen Page.” It’s the first time he’s ever said her full name out loud, he's aware of every syllable on his lips. It feels important, like he's revealing her and he tries to fight back the way it puts him on edge.

“Reporter from the Bulletin.” Curtis realises, raising his head as he frowns, unsure.

“Yeah, hi. It's nice to meet you.” Karen says and Frank can hear her smile, her sweetness, as he continues to watch Curtis.

“This about Lewis Wilson?” Curtis questions, his frown deepening. Frank can feel his friend’s suspicion as he misjudges Karen. He has to curb his smirk; Curtis wouldn’t be the first to misjudge and underestimate Karen Page.

“Uh no, no, it’s…” Karen turns to look at him as she rethinks what to say. She presses her lips together as Frank meets her eyes. He’s used to unspoken communication with Karen, it’s easy, but for the first time he’s aware he’s doing it in front of someone else that he knows, someone who knows him. Karen faces Curtis again. “Do you mind if I grab some coffee?” she gestures towards the table behind them all.

“Help yourself.” Curtis encourages with a nod.

“Thanks.” She goes to turn away, Frank gently grips her wrist and looks at her. “Yeah, I know.” she says with a small smile that displays fondness, before he can ask for a coffee himself.

“What’s going on, Frank?” Curtis speaks first. Frank sees his friends eyes flick to Karen behind him a number of times. He has force himself not to turn around and look at her too.

“Karen,” He says without thinking, as if it answers everything. “I uh, I wanted you to meet her.”

“Somethin’ you trying to tell me, Frank?” Curtis says with a damn smirk in his voice.

“Yeah, so don’t be an asshole.” He snipes back, making Curtis chuckle.

“Am I supposed to be asking you in what capacity you know a reporter from The Bulletin? She’s written about you, right?”

“She’s… We're, you know.” He hates that’s all he can say. He should have an answer, should be able to list off what Karen means to him. In some ways he can. She’s peace. She’s safety. She’s living. But he doesn’t think that’s the kind of shit Curtis wants to hear - it's the label - the recognised, normal label that he can’t find for them.

“And here I thought Group had just really gotten to you.” Curtis says with mock-offence.

“It does. It helps.” Frank counters, because it really has helped. He isn’t sure he’d be with Karen now without it, isn’t sure he would have been able to stay. He maybe doesn’t need it as much now, he doesn’t attend as many nights, but it still matters. It still gives him perspective – and going back home to Karen afterwards gives him even more. He connects with what the others in Group talk about, the experiences of a soldier, but he connects with her more. He’s the only one in Group who has killed outside of the battlefield, but he isn’t the only one who has in Karen’s home. He isn't alone, because of her.

“But not like she does? This the second life you’re living?” Curtis asks, reminding Frank of a conversation they had all those months ago.

“You asked me – you asked me what it would to take to make me happy again.” Frank continues recreating that conversation. He’d told Curtis that happiness was a kick in the balls waiting to happen. He hasn’t entirely moved away from that opinion. If Karen is taken away, if he loses her… He knows exactly what it will do to him. Occasionally Frank remembers Matt Murdock cradling a body on a roof. He doesn’t know who she was, Karen hasn't ever said anything about it and he worries about asking in case it makes her realise she still didn’t know everything about her former love. But he wonders if Matt Murdock thought it was worth it. He figures yes. Frank wouldn’t change his life with his family, even knowing how it ended.

“She must be somethin’.”

“She is, she’s…” Frank stops as he hears her heels click as she comes back. He turns to her as she hands him a coffee.

“So how’d you meet my brother here?” Curtis asks Karen, raising his eyebrows in gesture towards Frank.

“He chased me through a hospital with a gun, shooting. And down the street.” Karen says casually, blowing into her coffee that’s held high in both hands.

“That wasn’t, you were never…” Frank tries. He can still see her running through the hospital, risking her precious life for the piece of shit Grotto. He hates it. He hated it the first time he really, truly met her. Even then he hated it enough that he had to tell her, make her understand that she was never in any danger, not from him. It mattered that she knew that, that she believed him. He hadn’t given much of a shit who thought what of him by then, except an argument or two with Red. But her? All blonde and in his face? Challenging him even after he’d done that to her – he needed her to know she was safe with him.

“Frank.” She says, lowering her coffee as she looks at him, soothes him without saying a thing more. He’ll always regret their very first interaction, but if she isn’t haunted by it, he’s not going to put his hang-ups on her.

“She accosted me in hospital.” He explains to Curt. He sees her open her mouth in shock out of the corner of his eye and he has to bite down the smile he can feel threatening to take over.

“Accosted?” she quotes with offence.

“You charged right at me. Foggy in the corner pissing his pants.”

“He wasn’t that bad.” Karen defends her friend.

“Oh he was.” Frank still remembers it. Remembers Foggy clutching his briefcase, stammering away as he tried to get a word out of Frank but all Frank did was stare at Karen Page, at this woman who suddenly flipped his world in seconds. She hasn’t stopped doing that since. But he also remembers Foggy telling him no as he asked to be alone with her, and the attorney only leaving because Karen okay’d it. Frank has an appreciation for Franklin Nelson, more than Karen may realise and definitely more than Foggy himself realises.

“Murdock trying to hold you back.” He adds, going back to that first moment with the three of them. Neither he nor Karen mention Red much – he lets Karen lead how much she wants to talk about him – but it feels safe to say it right now, that saying his name out loud won’t hurt her.

“You pissed me off.” She declares, full of confidence. And he knows that too, remembers that too. Remembers her jaw tightening as she decided she was done with his shit, remembers her coming towards him with that picture, remembers her brushing Murdock off as he hauled her back, remembers her only stepping back because Reyes was coming into the room.

“You’d broken into my house.” He hits back, feeling the energy running through him at being able verbally spar with her like this.

“Technically…fine, yes, I broke into your house.” she concedes.

“There it is.” He acknowledges his victory by raising his coffee cup, pointing his index finger.

“So that’s why you chased her through the hospital.” Curtis concludes. Frank hasn’t forgotten he's standing next to them, he hasn’t, but his friend has blurred on the edges as Frank indulges in Karen. Except, they wouldn’t be having this conversation if Curt wasn’t standing there. This is how Curt will know Karen, will know Frank with Karen. Karen forgot about Curtis to some extent too; she looks away from Frank and presses her lips together as she does to quieten herself, to refocus and try to gain some control again. Frank takes a mouth full of his coffee, selfish enough of an asshole to pull back and enjoy Karen talking to Curtis - about them. This is what he'd wanted, a real reaction.

“Uh, other way around, and a different hospital. I broke into his home because he chased me.” Karen tries to explain. Frank's aware of her use of 'home' - and his lack of it.

“For a story?”

“No, actually, I wasn’t a reporter then.”

“What were you then?” A phone starts ringing before Curtis can fully finish his question. Franks knows it’s Karen's, he hears it enough. She really never stops working. Sometimes he calls her while she’s at work just to part of her interaction with her phone. He likes the thought of him being in her ear as others are around, clueless about him, about them. She hands him her coffee automatically as she digs in her purse for her cell phone.

“Shit, I should take this,” she scowls down at her phone. She looks at Frank, then Curt and back to Frank. She doesn’t need it but he gives the barest nod of permission anyway. “I’m sorry,” she says with her brows furrowed, taking her coffee back from him before she turns away from both of them and walks back over to the coffee table, putting her cup down. He watches her run her hand through her hair and hold it there for a moment as she answers the phone. “Karen Page.”

“I’m gonna need you to fill in the blanks for me on this one, Frank,” Curtis says at his side. Frank stays turned away, still watching Karen. “I mean, when? You’re close. Like, really close. How long’s this been going on for?”

“This.” Frank quotes still turned away. He’s stalling, and Curtis damn well knows it.

“Whatever you two are.” Curtis replies with a bit of attitude, not taking Frank’s distance.

“I don’t know what we are, Curtis.” Frank says mostly honestly as he finally faces his friend again.

“Because you’re trying to get out of answering the question or because you’re scared of the label?”

“We just – we don’t talk about exactly what we are. We just are.”

“I hope you weren’t going for something profound with that, man.” Curtis raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“She’s… She’s Karen. That’s all I…” he trails off as he looks down, thinking. He doesn’t know what they are, but more importantly, he’s not defining it with someone else before he has with her, even Curtis. Frank doesn’t even think the label matters – it doesn’t, it means shit. They haven’t kissed, haven’t had sex, but he goes home to her, she's part of him herself. ‘Boyfriend’/’girlfriend’ – what’s that shit even mean anyway? How can it possible sum them up? It doesn’t have the power to. It’s a change of opinion he’s learned from her, from them. Labels used to mean everything for him. Husband, father, soldier. That summed up anything that meant something to Frank Castle. He was those things, above all else - they explained who and what he was. But after the loss of his family, the labels he became didn’t really explain him, and it was Karen that pushed back on them so much and made him realise it. Murderer, psycho, lost cause. She challenged all of them, found out the why and reason that they didn't explain. In this other part of his life, the labels that everybody else wanted so much meant jack shit, they didn’t define anything. They were surface. And it’s the same for her. Labels people put on her…they don’t tell enough of the story, of her. He latches onto something he thinks might help Curtis understand, and something he hasn't been able to stop thinking about since he stepped into the room. “She was there when I put down Schoonover. He tried to kill her, the piece of shit.”

“Why?”

“Because she figured out he was part of it, and because she knew me.” Frank hears the fear in his own voice. That's all it took to put her in danger - knowing him, caring about him. Frank remembers another conversation with Curtis, where Curtis tried to tell him that he didn't kill his family, and Frank knew it was bullshit, it had been his fault. He's terrified he'll have that conversation again - he can't, it can't happen.

“We’ve talked about Schoonover a number of times. You’ve never mentioned her.”

“I know.” He meets Curtis head on, not breaking eye contact so he can make the point. Curtis tilts his back a bit, finally understanding something of what this all is.

“So you keep secrets from me now, man? I’m not criticising you, you’re allowed your secrets, I’m just confused. And I’m curious about how long I could have been using how you feel about her to be pushing you for something better.”

“Since I resurfaced, since I got I back in touch – before.” It feels like always in some ways. That shouldn’t be possible. His life couldn’t have been more different before he met her – he lived an entire life, happy, proud, not knowing she existed. And yet she’s buried in so much he can’t fully connect with the idea that she was never there. His deepest thoughts trying to combine his two lives in a way that isn’t fair to anybody. “We weren’t…we weren’t in contact the whole time.” he adds, looking down at the cooling coffee in his hand.

“I’m proud of you, Frank.” Curtis says catching his attention.

“For what? Being selfish and risking her because I want her?”

“Actually, kinda, yeah. For choosing to be human again. Selfishness, wants and all. It’s a big step. One I wasn’t sure you were ever going to make.”

“She wanted me to stay.” He replies quietly, a small frown marring his face. He doesn’t know what else to say. That was it – that was why, what it came down to, because she asked him to. He'd asked her to stay once too, and she had, when she'd owed him absolutely nothing.

“Here’s to her human selfishness and wants too then. She obviously knows…who you are, who you’ve been and what you’ve done.”

“Yeah. She’s seen me do it. I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“Don’t you?” Curtis challenges. Frank stares at him wordlessly. He doesn’t like voicing that shit. It’s part of the things of him that are worse than human selfishness, that go beyond and into twisted. Frank lacks regular shame and guilt, he knows that. He doesn’t feel any regret or sadness about those he’s killed. His only reaction like it is when Karen reacts, when she feels sad. But the idea of pulling Karen Page down into the dirt with him – and part of him wanting it – he feels shame about. It isn’t the life he wants for her, for them. And it isn’t his main desire, but sometimes he does feel it, does want it.

“God, I’m so sorry about that!” Karen comes back over and Frank feels himself both stand to attention and relax at the same time. It’s similar to what he felt during the Marines. Automatic response to her, to pay attention, but also that soothing balm that goes over him, that both winds him down and picks him right up.

“You’re meeting with some lowlife aren’t you?” he assumes.

“It’s like you have some kind of sixth sense.” There’s a teasing in her voice as she looks at him with a small smile – he loves it, loves hearing her like that, loves more that he can now be the one to bring it out in her.

“Yeah, called knowing you and the trouble you get yourself into.” Him, in other words.

“I don’t actually know if he’s trouble, to be fair. I just suspect it at this point.”

“This sounds like a regular occurrence.” Curtis cuts in.

“It’s just for work. I cover crime so I tend to come into contact with the sketchier side of society.”

“Well, be careful.” Curtis says with a sincerity Frank wants to hug him for. Frank figures it’s more about him than Karen herself, but still, his friend showing some kind of care for her – his friend recognising Frank’s own care for her – it matters.

“Thanks,” Karen’s taken off guard too, her voice quiet and genuine. Then her brows furrow again and she takes a breath and Frank gets worried, can feel his body tensing in preparation. “I’m sorry about what Lewis Wilson did. If I hadn’t pushed back so much, and so publicly, maybe he wouldn’t have done the things he did.”

“That ain’t on you. I appreciate it, and same back from me – I could have realised sooner. But that was his choice. And it’s just the way shit went down.”

“He had family? He mentioned…a father.” Frank can feel her looking at him, knows she’s reliving that moment in the kitchen with. He’s reliving it too. And that’s why he can’t look back at her. This is exactly why he hadn’t done this yet. These worlds meeting – what else could it do? How else could it risk her? Schoonover got to her, Lewis Wilson got to her, both because of her interaction with him. What if he'd introduced her to Billy? He hears her talking to Curtis, compassionate as always, even for a fucked up, broken soldier that tried to kill her and of course she is, because it’s him and her all over again. She seeks more story - the truth - and she connects with the empathy she so easily feels.

“Yeah, good guy too. Couldn’t have done more.” Curtis says, as compassionate as Karen and for a moment Frank wonders why and how either of them bother with him. They’re so much better than him. He’s trembling now, can feel the adrenaline running through him, screaming at him to grab her and run.

“We should go.” He says before he’s realised he’s opened his mouth. Both Karen and Curtis look at him.

“We…okay,” Karen accepts as she searches his face before turning back to Curtis. “Well, it was really nice to finally meet you, Curtis.”

“Yeah, yeah you too, Karen. Take care of Frank here.”

 

“What’s wrong?” she questions as soon as they’re clear of the building. "Frank.” She says his name with a frown that he still doesn’t react to. Finally she steps in front of him, stopping him with a hand on his chest that he stares down at.

“Karen.” He cracks, placing his hand over hers before tugging into it his own and gripping her fingers.

“I…I’m right here,” she says unsurely, as if she’s not sure it’s what she should be saying. Usually it’s his line. “Frank?” her voice is full of worry that burns through him. He looks her over, eyes roaming her face and she just stares back at him, waits for him. Stepping forward he wraps his other hand around her, pulling her to him before he walks them off to the side, guiding her backwards until they reach a building wall. He crowds against her, into her, as he drops his head to her shoulder. He’s still shaking and he knows she can feel it too. He tries to focus on her breathing, not just the breath he can feel on his skin, but the move of her chest every time she inhales and exhales. Frank buries his head into her neck, against her pulse point. He’s still holding her hand in his but she uses her other to place against his chest again, squeezing it between their bodies that are pressed together. She anchors him with that hand, his breathing slowing under her, his body coming back down again.

He wants to kiss her, wants to feel her breath in every way he can, breathing into him.

But he won’t, not here on this nothing street when he's a mess. It doesn’t matter that so much of them before this has been covered in blood and sweat - not this. He fucking refuses it. He is selfish and maybe Curtis is right and some of that is okay, but not this. Instead he rubs his nose against the nape of her neck and up to her ear, his beard tickling against her as he rests his forehead against her temple.

“I’m coming with you. To your source meeting.”

“Frank, we always have this argument.” She sighs but it’s careful, like she’s scared to set him off. She knows better though. It’s never how he’s responded to her, because she’s always gotten it, gotten him. Standing in this street in an embrace where he’s falling apart, she still gets it.

“Please. Please, Karen. I can’t –“ He whispers against her skin, his lips brushing against her. He relishes in her arching her neck in response, his lips twitching.

“If you scare him away, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

It's so normal, at least half of it. He clings to it, clings to her. He’s officially mixed his worlds and he can’t help feeling like he’s doomed her. Maybe it's stupid, so fucking stupid. After everything he’s done that this would feel like the thing to expose her - it didn't seem to matter what he did or didn't do before, somehow those bastards still got to her. But he can’t help feeling like he just marked her with his own fate.

“Curtis seems nice.” She says after a while.

“Best guy I know. Always has been.”

“Thank you for letting me meet him. I know it wasn’t easy for you.” She understands, making him feel it was worth it and draining some of the tension he feels. Karen Page, sweet and good, reaching out; recognising his dysfunction but holding him through it anyway. He thinks about how much they’ve switched from yesterday, when he’d met Doris and Karen was the one to panic and he tried to reassure her.

 

He doesn’t say it until they're in bed that night.

“I’m scared.” He breathes against her shoulder in the dark, wishing there was skin there instead of the loose t-shirt she wears. But then she turns around in his arms and he’s looking at her eyes.

“Of what?” her voice is just as quiet as him, but steadier - he thinks maybe steady enough for the both of them.

“That part of my life took everything from me. And I didn’t even know it was doing it. Didn’t have a goddamn clue. I was so fucking stupid, too consumed by thinking shit was good,” he hears Schoonover and Agent Orange in his head, talking about his family tradition of Central Park. He hears Schoonover taunting him to tell Karen about Kandahar, and her telling him to shut up. He hears Lewis Wilson believing Karen should understand him because she defended The Punisher. “And afterwards…I had nothing left. Until you. Karen, if anything happens to you -”

“It won’t be because you introduced me to your friend.” She counters.

“It can’t ever happen.” He demands to the whole goddamn world.

“I can’t lie to you, so please don’t make me try.” She says with a tremble, taking away the surety he had felt.

“What?”

“Something could happen to me. I could get sick, I could get in an accident,” she lists off, staring at his mouth, or his chin, as she does. “Someone I write about or expose could could come after me. Someone could use me to get to you,” she whispers as she meets his eyes again. "It could happen, Frank. I’m not naive about it. It doesn't mean it will, and even if it something does happen, it doesn't mean that it will be..." he sees her swallow back the words and he's glad for it, he can't hear her say it. "I will always fight with everything I can, especially now. And I know you will do everything you can to keep me safe, and I will for you. But it doesn’t take the risk away. Not fully. Nothing can. But I’m not going to live some kind of half life because of it. Yesterday with Doris…I was so scared, so worried that I had risked you, risked us, but I can’t be like that, Frank. It’s even more reason why I want to live how I want. And I want you.”

“Why?” he can't help asking.

“Because you see me. You always have. You respect me. You’ve always been honest with me and Frank, that…” she trails off, ducking her head before she meets his eyes again. “I understand you. I know how good you are, here” she places her hand on his chest, a habit of hers he likes to enjoy. “You’re…it’s like you’re the other part of me…or something equally as corny," she exhales a small, embarrassed laugh and he's taken by the way she smiles, even if for a moment. "It’s like…it’s like I found some part of myself through trying to find you,” She sniffs and looks away again. “And I’m sorry. I know this isn’t how you wanted your life to be. I know you’re not -”

“I’m happy.” He tells her, making her stare at his eyes again.

“Frank.” she sighs as if she thinks he's just indulging her - it bothers him. How can she still not know?

“I’m different than I used to be,” he places his hand over hers, holding it against his chest so she doesn’t take it away. “I lost…I lost a lot of me. But who I am now… It’s you, Karen. I’m not saying there’s nothing of me that's the same but that’s…that’s kind of the point, you know?" he squeezes her hand, tighter against his chest. "Everything I forgot I could feel after I lost my family – everything I didn’t think I could feel again…you made me feel it again.” He still doesn’t believe he got some kind of second chance most days. How can it be possible he was lucky enough to find such an incredible woman who matches him not once in his life, but twice? He doesn't deserve it, never had. He is happy, with her. It's a different happiness than he used to understand, but he still wants to live every day. He smiles and he laughs and he...he loves. He is as happy as he ever could be again, he's sure of it. In some ways it's more; he's freer. To be brutal, to be his worst and still be accepted and understood. He doesn't have to hide parts of himself with Karen. She's always been determined to dig all those parts out, to see them and defend them, as much as the good of him. Everything of him that she challenges, she does so by fully recognising.

“So it’s okay I held on with two hands and don’t plan on ever letting go?” she gives him a small smile, her eyes shining tears in the dark, the light of the city reflecting into the bedroom. He doesn't deserve what they've found together, but she deserves everything and if he can instill that look on her face, he'll stay to give it to her, even if he's terrified she'll be taken away from him.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s better than okay.” He promises as he watches the curve of her lip.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get this up before Christmas. I'm cutting it super close, I realise haha.
> 
> Happy holidays, everybody. Thank you so, so much for reading.


End file.
